Theodore Thomas Symphony Concert

Includes program. 

Descriptive analysis. 

“Mr. Thomas’ matinée concert at Steinway Hall, yesterday, was very largely attended. It does not call for an extended notice, the selections being quite familiar. The most important were Berlioz’s ‘Childe Harold’ symphony; Mendelssohn’s Octet, and some excerpts from ‘Die Meistersinger.’ How admirably Mr. Thomas’ forces perform these compositions has often been said in this place, and all we need just now remark, is that yesterday’s recital was quite up to the high standard of excellence to which the public has become accustomed.”

“Mr. Theodore Thomas gave a classical matinée yesterday at Steinway Hall, which was numerously attended. The concert began with the celebrated ‘Harold’ symphony, by Berlioz, an extremely fantastic work, but one that gains in popularity after each performance. The real father of the Zukunft school of music was a perfect adept in everything relating to orchestral effect, and in this symphony his fertility of imagination has full scope. The selection from ‘Die Meistersinger,’ which was also on the bill, is a fuller development of the theories advanced in the descriptive work of Berlioz. Then there were the lovely string octet of Mendelssohn, the ‘Dream Song’ of Schumann and the king of all overtures, Rossini’s ‘William Tell.’”

“Thomas’s third matinée, given last Saturday at Steinway Hall, was very well attended, the following being the programme [see above].

A few seasons ago any conductor would have been laughed at for offering the ‘Harold’ Symphony at a matinée concert. But Thomas’s years of patient work have made the most abstruse music so plain to the comprehension of our audiences that Berlioz finds as ready a popular acceptance here as anywhere in the world. The performance of this Symphony at one of the evening concerts early in the season aroused a great deal of interest and discussion among musicians, and that was only natural; but the favor with which its repetition was received by the general public on Saturday surpassed all reasonable expectation. Indeed we are half inclined to believe that persons who know little or nothing of the science of music, who care nothing about theories of art, and judge of a composition only as it pleases their ear or stirs their feelings, are readier to applaud this remarkable work than connoisseurs who stumble over its extravagances and recognize at once its bold departure from classical molds. Yet it is as far as possible from what is commonly called popular music. It is almost baren of [illegible] melodies. Every phrase has a distinct and deep meaning, to which the development of [illegible] sensuous tunes is held strictly subordinate. In a word, it makes no ‘concessions’to an unformed public taste; and if the public nevertheless like it [illegible] fairly conclude that it contains an element of genuine poetry. The poetical idea is there, although its expression is at times somewhat forced and elaborate.

It was interesting to contrast the work of Berlioz with the selections from Wagner’s ‘Meistersinger.’ Berlioz is often spoken as the precursor if not the musical parent of Wagner, and though the art-prophet of the future has borrowed much less from the great French symphonist than is commonly supposed, we can certainly trace in Berlioz the patterns after which Wagner formed his method of orchestral coloring. Yet what enormous progress do we not perceive in the thirty years which passed between ‘Harold’ and the ‘Meistersinger.’ Berlioz wrote as if in the midst of struggle, and in listening even to his most elegant and poetical creations we are somehow conscious of an atmosphere of strife, a tone of violent self-assertion. In Wagner, however, we feel the calm superiority of a master who knows that his victory has been won, who has no misgivings as to the permanency of what he has accomplished, whose thoughts flow easily, and whose facility of musical expression is practically boundless. The freedom for which Berlioz fought is here enjoyed in comfort; and the new forms which the French composer established, only after contention and experiment, seem almost to shape themselves spontaneously under the hand of the greater German and to clothe themselves with astonishing beauty and richness. It would be hard to find any music more intricate in structure and severe in scientific character than those selections from the third Act of the ‘Meistersinger,’ and yet we should never think of calling them ‘[illegible]’. The all-embracing melody (a very different thing from tune) is too fluent and emotional to suit that adjective.

The performance of these two prominent numbers on the programme was of course superb,--Mr. Charles Baetens playing the viola obbligato in the Symphony and Mr. Lockwood the harp. Equally remarkable in point of execution was the Mendelssohn Octet. This noble work, written before the composer was sixteen years of age, displays a fertility of fancy and a vigor of style which would have been striking in a mature writer, and are simply astonishing in a boy. It ranks with the very best and most popular of Mendelssohn’s chamber compositions. Written for four violins, two tenors, and two ‘celli, it is played by Mr. Thomas with the full string orchestra (double basses excepted)—that is with five or six instruments for each of the eight parts. The unanimity, the delicacy, and the force of the rendering were all alike noticeable, and the weight of these well trained strings in the fortissimo passages can hardly be praised too highly.”

“At the matinée on Saturday afternoon at Steinway Hall, the ‘Harold in Italy’ symphony by Berlioz was performed most admirably by the Thomas orchestra. It was well received, each movement being unanimously applauded. The obligato monologue was undertaken as before by Mr. Charles Baetens, who drew from his instrument the characteristic expression which Berlioz, with deep insight, perceived to be attainable from the tones of the viola alone. The composer evidently wrote for such exceptionally good performers, for it is hardly conceivable that such a work—abounding in so very many technical difficulties, which must be completely mastered before the poetic idea can be clearly perceived—would please him or any audience if rendered by an ordinary orchestra. Of its abstract merits as a work of art we have already spoken.

Mendelssohn’s octet of stringed instruments (opus 20) was played by the whole stringed band, without the double basses, only one of which was employed to reduplicate the cello part. This wonderful composition was produced by Mendelssohn when he was only sixteen years old, and yet it is one of his finest works. The dashing Allegro in E flat, notwithstanding its great length, was listened to throughout with marked attention. The lovely Andante in C minor, the highly original Scherzo in G minor, and the spirited Presto in E flat, in the style of a fugal Finale were all greatly admired. The last movement was led off by the violoncelli at full speed, and this pace was kept up until the very last note, without the slightest attempt or least sign of a desire to slacken the time. The Presto seemed rather to acquire an impetus that might lead to an increased speed.

This work was received with so much favor that one is surprised that more opportunities are not afforded New York audiences to become acquainted with Chamber Music. It possesses a vast literature enriched by many of the greatest works of all the greatest masters. These treasures still lie hidden, though many would rejoice to see them fully displayed.

The second part was begun by an exceedingly brilliant performance of Rossini’s popular overture, ‘William Tell.’ Schumann’s ‘Traumerei,’ which followed, was played by request, and the loud, prolonged applause which followed induced Mr. Thomas to perform it a second time. This little unpretending piano-forte piece, from Schumann’s album for children, is a perfect work of art, in a technical and higher sense. There are several others by the same great composer which by similar treatment would prove equally interesting, and give variety to orchestral concert programmes.

The selection from the third act of Wagner’s ‘Meistersinger von Nürnberg’—which opera he wrote as a comical pendant to ‘Tannhäuser’—was magnificently played, and formed a worthy conclusion to this highly interesting programme. The grandeur of the harmonics, the richness of the orchestration and broad, noble rhythmic design of the finale were all fully enjoyed, but of course, to those who were unacquainted with the text and action of this part of the opera, the scenes could not be fully realized, and therefore the music, simply as such, had to be received on its own merits. Fortunately, these are not very great, and were fully made known by the Thomas orchestra on this occasion.”